the self-fulkilling…


I want to fight
I want to fuck
I want liberation
from this sterile muck

I want to kick
I want to fist
I want no metallic arms
nor gauntleted wrists

I want to sway
I want to stray
I don’t want to cross
nor look both ways

I want to survive
I want to thrive
I want transportation
out of my drive


¡listen lamina, you’ve got it all backwards!


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